


in memory

by poe_daaaayyuuuumron8



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, TOO MANY COMMAS, and he does not get enough recognition, because I love him, idk what to tell yall, it deals with Keeli's death, it has a rushed yet hopefully fulfilling ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27018664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poe_daaaayyuuuumron8/pseuds/poe_daaaayyuuuumron8
Summary: Rex hears about Keeli's death through an apologetic looking Cody, via hologram.Anakin finds out via finding Rex beating the crap out of a punching bag at 0256.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, If you want it - Relationship, could be slash also, ill leave it up to you
Comments: 12
Kudos: 129





	in memory

It’s a shiny who’s got a big mouth, and a name that somehow relates to that, who goes down next. That’s his third in the past 20 minutes. 

Rex does not care anymore. 

He is simply angry.

So he found himself here, sparring, fight after fight, because he is so angry. 

The kid doesn’t end up getting hurt too bad; just a bloody mouth and a lot of bruises tomorrow, and Rex takes a break, taking a swig of water, and resting for a minute or so, before stepping up to the mat again. 

Fives goes against him next, and Rex is grateful that he is actually skilled.

He is grateful that this will be painful. 

-

“Hey Kix?” someone calls from the entrance to the medbay, to where Kix works on a broken finger. 

“I’m busy right now Jess, can’t take a social call,” Kix calls back, not even needing to turn to see who is calling him. 

“No, uh,” Jesse swallows roughly, glancing down the hallway. “Just, we got a problem. A really real problem,” he says, and something in his tone makes Kix pause. 

“...Okay, give me a sec and I can help you out, after I do this,” Kix says, pausing to look at Jesse’s face, surprised by his serious tone. Jesse nods, biting his fingernails. 

After setting the finger, Kix washes his hands and turns to Jesse. “What’s wrong, Jess?” he asks. 

Jesse hesitates for a second, before pacing towards him. “It's the Captain, Kix. Something’s wrong. He’s beating the shit out of people nonstop in sparring, and he’s being really weird.” 

Kix frowns. “Why?” he questions.

Jesse throws his hands in the air. “We don’t know! He was fine, and then he wasn’t.” 

Kix frowns, pondering on this. “Training room?” he asks, pointing down the hall. Jesse nods. “Coric,” he calls to the senior medic. “I’m going to check on someone, you good here?” Coric waves him off, making him promise to grab some more caf on the way back though, to which Kix nods, and starts off with Jesse. 

The training room is oddly barren, especially for a free day like today. But there are some people there, including Rex, Fives, Echo, Hardcase, and a larger group of younger brothers, watching the mat, where Fives and Rex duke it out. The former seems more intent on just staying alive then actually throwing punches, with the steaming Captain coming at him. 

Eventually, after way too long of a fight that looks exhausting on both ends, Fives taps out with a bloody nose, which Kix looks at quickly, before addressing Rex. 

“Captain?” he calls, while Rex breaks for a drink. Rex sends him a look that Hardcase calls ‘The Witherer,’ but Kix presses forward. “Captain, I think it’s time for a break. From what I’ve heard, you been at this for a little while.”

Rex sends him the look again, and takes a swig of water, going to step up to the mat again. One of the younger brothers tentatively steps up, looking nervous, but also intent on this fight. 

Kix rolls his eyes and steps between them. “Captain, I’m not asking,” he declares, crossing his arms and sending his own withering look Rex’s way and stepping closer to him.

“Get out of my face Kix,” Rex warned, almost normally, but sounding tired too. 

“Captain, seriously, either you tell me what’s wrong or we go.” He was kind of bluffing, considering he was going to get Rex out of here no matter what. He took another step forward.

Rex just glared at him, something dark in his eyes that he didn’t really want to see. “I said get out of my face,” he warns again, calmly.

“Captain, I’m afraid I am concerned for your well-being and health, meaning in this situation I outrank you sir, so we’re going to the medbay,” Kix said, and reached out, putting his hand on Rex’s shoulder. 

Suddenly, Rex sprang forward, and grabbed Kix’s color of his blacks, pushing him up against the nearest wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the others react, darting forward. Jesse was suddenly at his side. 

“Captain!” Jesse yelled, grabbing his shoulder and trying to pull him back. 

“I said, get out of my face,” Rex growled, then dropped his collar and stalked off, ignoring anyone else. 

-

It’s all very methodical. 

That’s how Rex goes through the rest of the day.

Methodically, and angry. 

So angry.

After lights out, Rex finds himself in a training room once again, beating the shit out of a punching bag, because what else is he supposed to do? His knuckles aren’t wrapped properly, and the bag has long since been spotted red, and he is in pain.

Pain because that is - was - his brother. 

Pain because that was his batchmate, who he grew up alongside, who he trained with, who he used to crawl into bed with because it was always so blasted cold in the bunk room, who he used to slack off with as they got older. 

Who he loved.

He messes up a kick, falling to the ground. He yells a curse through gritted teeth, slapping the mat in frustration and shoots up, breathing heavily. Rex goes back to the bag, punches coming in harder and harder until they become so weak, it’s hardly even moving the bag, and he feels like he can’t lift his arms anymore. Then, he lays down heavily, arms crossed over his eyes, legs bent, panting.

“Rex,” a soft voice says, and it startles him enough to look up. Anakin stands at the door, awkwardly half-inside, looking apprehensive. 

“General,” Rex says, and stands, busying himself by taking off the bad wraps, trying to hide the bloody sight from Skywalker. 

“Rex… are you okay?” Anakin asks, coming inside fully, still looking awkward.

Rex nods, and throws the wraps in his bag, grabbing his water and taking a swig, purposefully not looking at Anakin, in fear that he might see how close he was to breaking, because he was so close. “‘Always am, sir.” His voice sounds weird, even to him. Choked, maybe. 

“Really? Because you just spent like, twenty minutes beating a punching bag like it’s Count Dooku himself, I don’t really think that constitutes ‘fine,’” Anakin laughed, shaking some hair out of his face. Rex sent him a weak smile, and grabbed his bag. 

“You should get some rest sir,” Rex said softly, not looking at Anakin. 

There was a beat of hesitation. “No, Rex, what’s wrong?” Anakin murmured, coming closer. 

Rex shook his head, and willed the lump in his throat to leave.

“Rex, you’re sad, and angry, and a lot of things, really, but mostly those, and I’d like to know why,” Anakin said, his voice oddly soft, something so different for him. 

It wasn’t that Anakin couldn’t be kind, it’s just that his kindness was that of a different type. His kindness was affirmations of good jobs, and thinking of specific men for jobs, asking for them by name. It was a job well done and ‘I was just doing my duty.’ It was Anakin Skywalker, being what he was best: A Jedi. 

But this was different for him. This was like how he got sometimes when Ahsoka was really upset with something, or Obi-Wan was angry after he did something reckless and he nearly lost him. This was like the one time Senator Amidala got angry at him, and he was trying to calm her down. This was how he was with people he truly cared about. 

That alone nearly had Rex breaking down right there. 

“Rex,” Anakin murmured, and a hand grazed his shoulder. He tensed up at the touch but Anakin didn’t move his hand. “Rex, please, what’s wrong.” 

“Keeli,” he gasped out, and clenched his jaw, trying his hardest not to cry, because everything was suddenly so built up in him; all the repressed feelings from today, all the memories that had resurfaced, everything he was trying so hard not to think about that was right there.

They stayed there for a second, before Rex pulled himself together enough to continue. 

“On Ryloth, with General Di,” He didn’t expect this to be so physically painful. “He died.” His voice broke then, and he put a hand over his mouth, trying his hardest not to break down here. 

“He was my batchmate, we grew up together. He was my best friend.” 

Apparently that’s all it took for Anakin, because suddenly his arms are around him with enough force that Rex stumbles back a step, before throwing his arms around him too, feeling young, suddenly, and hides his face in Anakin’s shoulder, because he doesn’t know what else to do, and he’s crying, like an idiot, because that was his brother, who died in a war they don’t understand anymore. 

Anakin just holds him, and that is enough because he doesn’t know what else there is for him to do right now. 

His hands hurt a lot, he notices through whatever fog is in his mind, and when he looks at them, there’s blood down his fingers. 

“I have to go to the medbay,” he mumbles into Anakin’s shoulder, not wanting to lift his head. 

Anakin pulls back suddenly. “Why? Are you hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, worry in his eyes. 

Rex shows him his hands, staring down at the floor. Anakin reaches out slowly, and grabs his hands, thumb swiping at some of the blood. His touch is soft, which is something Rex did not expect. It is like sugar and honey, and all things soft and sweet. 

And it reminds him of Keeli. 

Everything does, really, but these soft touches grazing over wounded knuckles remind him of him most of all. 

Of how he would lightly reprimand him as if he were Kote, his older brother, and would wrap his knuckles for him, and hide the bloody towel from the instructors, because you never knew what would upset them.

“Rex?” 

Rex jerks his head up, startled for some reason. “Sorry,” he says, and his voice sounds weird again. 

“It’s okay. I lost you there for a second. You okay?” Anakin says softly, and he steps away for a second, grabbing a towel. He came back, and wrapped one of Rex’s hands in it, gently wiping away the blood. He paused. “Not ‘okay.’ You probably aren’t, and that’s okay, you know.”

Rex nodded, still staring down at their hands, trying so hard not to think of anything. 

“C’mon,” Anakin murmured, took the towel in one hand, and laced his fingers through one of Rex’s, careful to avoid his bloody knuckles. 

The next thing Rex knew, he was outside the medbay, and Anakin was dragging him inside and Rex remembered what he did to Kix and suddenly wants to leave, but then Anakin sits him down on a cot, tells him to stay with a lingering touch on his shoulder, and a few moments later he comes back with Kix. 

“Hey, Captain,” Kix murmurs softly, in a way that suggests that he knows. “Commander Cody called. Told us what happened. I’m sorry about Keeli.” 

Rex clenches his jaw and stares down at his hands, nods once, tries not to cry again. He is still supremely aware of Anakin, who sat down next to him, with his flesh hand on Rex’s knee.

(One thing he’s noticed about Anakin in his years of knowing him is that he almost never touches anybody with his mech hand.)

Kix wraps his knuckles in silence, and once he is done with that, Rex spaces out for a second, vaguely hearing the two others in the room discussing something quietly. It’s a solid minute before Anakin gently pulls him back to reality, and Rex thinks that that was too long of a time, because it gave him just enough time to remember that one time he got into a fight and Keeli and Cody were talking about what they were going to do to make sure he didn’t get caught. It’s a bit of an odd comparison, he knows, but it's what he thinks of and it makes his heart hurt. 

“C’mon Rex, let’s get you to your bunk,” Anakin murmurs, placing a hand where his shoulder meets his neck. He takes his hand back quickly, and after a second, laces his through Rex’s, pulling him forward, and Rex thinks he spots a slight blush on his tanned cheeks as he purposefully does not look his way. Anakin leads him away, down towards the barracks where Rex usually sleeps. 

A grip tightens around Rex’s chest and it takes him a second to realize that he’s stopped walking, starting ahead as Anakin looks at him. 

“Can’t sleep in there tonight. They’ll talk. Pity. Try to help,” Rex murmurs, only then actually looking at Anakin. His hair is slightly damp and the starchy scent of GAR issued soap comes from him. His clothes are looser than normal, and his shirt could be a crop top, honestly, if his pants weren’t quite as high-waisted as they were. 

Anakin just nods his assent, and changes directions, starting off again and heading towards his and Ahsoka’s quarters where the Commanders quarters were. (Rex wasn’t technically a Commander, but that was only so he could stay fighting with his boys on the front lines, instead of stuck up in Coruscant half the time, like Cody complained he so constantly was.) 

His quarters don’t really feel like ‘his.’ With how often he spends sleeping in the barracks, this room just feels unnecessary. The most it is used for is extra storage or if he’s wounded and needs more space than normal. 

It’s pretty much bare when Anakin opens the door, keying in the code easily. There’s a drawing on one of the walls; something one of the younger brother’s did with pride and a little apprehension. He keeps it here because the brother’s best friend sleeps near Rex’s barracks bunk, and it would just be a gross reminder of his death. 

Rex doesn’t want to think about that now. 

He lingers in the doorway, even as Anakin jostles his hand slightly, grabbing his attention. 

“What do I do now?” Rex asks, mostly himself.

Anakin blinks. “Sleep. We’re still in hyperspace tomorrow, and then Coruscant. You’ve got all day.”

“I’ll have nightmares.”

“I’ll stay with you.” 

Rex blinks at that. “Really?” he asks, skeptically. 

“Really,” Anakin says, and it feels like a promise.

And so, for the first time in what feels like forever, both Anakin and Rex sleep for 10 hours straight, curled up together on a skinny bed that isn’t quite big enough for both of them. They both wake up feeling more rested than they have in a while, and only slightly awkwardly.


End file.
